Tag: writing

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Howl

I’m not sure how many more times Pacer and I will get to hike this section, one of our favorites, on the Colorado Trail/Collegiate West…

The first time we hiked the Alpine Tunnel was with Sandi and Sage 10 years ago, just after we moved to Colorado. Then, 2 months later, we hiked through it again as we backpacked our way across the state. This year, we’ve been lucky enough to visit various parts of this trail 4 times, twice with Sandi and Sage (the best!). This time, I was just so grateful to have it all to ourselves, with Pacer getting to frolic and sniff freely while I watched, cried, and howled.



Crying and howling (howling feeling much more primal and alive in me than simply screaming) have almost become a staple of mine this year, bringing some relief to my grief and fear, while shadow/protector parts roared inside my head, parts that may have stayed more hidden in the dark if I didn’t have such intense love for a dog pouring through my veins. And as painful as these parts are, they needed to come to the light so I could see them.

As just a friend dreamed (visioned), Pacer is guiding me through and bringing me home, as I swirl through the darkness and play with various healing modalities, some that I never thought I would. I’ve gathered more humans on my team, and was almost overwhelmed as two of mentors, with tears in their eyes, told me how proud of me they were this week…not for doing well in sports or getting straight As, but for simply being me. Intuitive, sensitive, and weird.* It’s all be quite an adventure, really. 

And, while my mind wants to tell me how I messed things up or tell me where I should have been more perfect, underneath that, my heart is telling me it’s all been beautiful, too. It’s conscious, minute by minute choice, to drop allegiance to my mind and pledge allegiance to heart. Eventually, perhaps, my mind will become a faithful servant. Or perhaps it will be a continual process of observation- acknowledging the thought and accepting it without condition, while choosing my own way. Allowing my heart chakra to expand- holing the love, pain, and grief- the beauty of it all. Eventually knowing, even if only on my deathbed, it will all be alchemized back to its original source. 



Sometimes love doesn’t move mountains in the way we think it will. Sometimes it comes first as a roaring river, crushing us and bringing us to our knees. It cleanses us of our fear and false beliefs before rebuilding us, giving us a new foundation to stand on and an opportunity to become whole. We are gifted with a new chance to deepen our roots in the love that created us and the truth of who we are. We rise upward, connected and grounded, in a love that sets us free. 




beautypain #wanderlust #dogsofinstagram #spirituality #healing

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Gifts of Evolution (Part Two): A New Reality

One thing that I didn’t mention in my previous post on considering that every experience in your life is happening for you, even the one you don’t necessarily like, is that in addition to rising from victim mentality to to hero of your story (thank you, Joseph Campbell, for first writing about the “Heroe’s Journey”.), you’re entering a new reality.

Before I explain further, I’d like to thank the YouTuber who left a mean comment on my last video- all my haters seem to always come from YouTube. (I don’t actually upload any videos individually to YouTube, it’s just connected to my Substack, but I use YouTube often to listen to podcasts. Because I’m practicing becoming the focus of my attention (subject) rather than the outside world (object), I just turned off all my YouTube notifications. Look up Dr. Sue Morter if you’re interested in learning more about her “subject-object-subject” practice). I’ll return to the YouTuber and his (or the bots?) role in my evolution shortly. 

What I’m going to attempt to do for you here is explain 3D to 4D & 5D reality super simply, as it’s taken me years to understand it. 

If we take a situation and simply tell it as it is, the story, or plot, is pretty flat. “I have been injured.” What most of us do, from the place of victim mentality (which arises from unprocessed fear), is say “I’m so frustrated I’m injured. This is sucks.” While it is important to honor our emotions, the thing that keeps us stuck are beliefs such as “This is bad.” “Bad things always happen to me.” “I have no control over this.” And, while it is true that you might not be able to magically heal from the injury overnight, what you DO have the ability to shift is your perspective over what happened (in this example, the injury). This doesn’t mean you have to know why right away, but simply holding on to the belief that there is something for you in it can return you to a place of power, and perhaps paradoxically, actually support your healing. (Honestly, I don’t care if you believe everything happens for a reason or that you can simply choose to give any circumstance meaning…both are way more empowering then playing victim and labeling what happens as a negative experience.) 

With that understanding, you can now create a new story around the plot. It might start with, “I’m injured. And part of me feels sad about it, but I also know that there is something for me here to support my growth.” Later, it might turn into, “As much as I didn’t want to be injured, it really helped me pause and go inward. I have more peace in my life now, because I learned how to create it within me, than I ever did before. I’m actually glad I got injured.”

Realizing this post is getting long and I have work to do, I’m not fully going to differentiate 4D and 5D reality (in truth, I’m also still trying to fully understand it) and because I wanted to get to the YouTuber story. The short version is that 4D reality says, “I don’t like my current reality, and I can DO things to change it”. 5D reality says “I don’t like my current reality. I can shift my inner experience (emotions) to BECOME a higher version of me, and ALLOW a new physical reality come to me.

Okay, one more short story. So let’s say I’m the hero of my story. I decided I’m the main Player in the video game called Life. When the YouTuber/Villian writes a mean comment, I first allow myself to feel and heal some of the emotions from my old victim programming. Then, I realize that the Negative Ned YouTuber/Villian is just another challenge for me to get to the next level. I realize he can 1) support me in my aforementioned) healing and 2) is trying to throw darkness my way so I continue to dim my light at stay at the level I’m at, 3D reality. Having been at the level so many times, continuing to fail and calling on another life, my soul, or Player is finally evolved enough to see another path. Actually, I realized the YouTuber isn’t an enemy I’m trying to fight off. He’s actually trying to support me in my journey and challenging me to NOT dim my light this time. With my light now actually brighter, I decided to share what I learned with other Players (You), so we can all start moving to the next level, or reality, together. 

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Heart Talk

I lay in bed with a hand on my chest, feeling the almost rhythmic beat of my heart (I’ve had a slight, non-harmful arrhythmia, since my early 20s). I listen to the soft pounding coming from inside of me, a change from the normal external tuning. 

I feel like my heart is trying to speak to me, but it’s coming through in morse code, or perhaps an ancient language that I once understood, but now has long forgotten.

“What are you trying to tell me?”, I ask and plead at the same time. 

My heart just keeps beating. Perhaps a little quicker and louder now, in response to my desperation. 

While my mind believes it always has all the answers, a suspicious part of it believes my heart holds a secret. I suspect that once the secret is revealed, it will put an end to all my mind’s suffering and finally quell its endless thirst to know everything. Or at least, this is a lie my mind tells itself, because it really just wants love and safety, but that sounds too vulnerable, too childlike to admit. 

The paradox is that I know my heart does hold the key, but my demand that it speak in a language I can understand and fix everything I believe is wrong is exactly what closed the pathway between my mind and heart. I suppose we could also call it fear, which I can feel in the gentle constriction of my neck. 

I breathe, realizing I’m in a state of anxiety again. It always sneaks up on me, without my knowing. It’s a learned response to not trust. Not trust in myself, in light, in Love. My anxiety never feels safe. But I’m learning that perhaps, fear is the lie. 

I remind myself to relax. That all is well. I am safe in my bed and hear my dog’s sleepy breathing close to me.

I put down my pen and turn off my lamp. I know my heart will speak when it is ready, when I am quiet enough to hear it.

*** 

The next day as I’m driving, I hear my heart simply say, “I’m right here.”

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Brave

I am the most brave when standing still.
When I am writing reflections through tears under the fire of a lamp,
or feeling the feels and weeping into my dog’s fur.
I am the most brave when I ask for connection.
When I share my feelings with a lover,
knowing at any moment he could walk away.
I am the most brave when I walk into my therapists office,
making sure no secret is left hidden, no emotion left unfelt.
I am the most brave when I shine my light within.
When I witness my wounds
and kneel before my heart.

****

Like Pacer, you can be brave and still be scared of thunderstorms. You can hide under the covers and paw your Mom for comfort.

Why?

Because bravery has little to do with external actions and everything to do with one’s ability to go within. To shine a light on the fear that drives them.

I could ski down a double black and still be a coward for giving into to my need to impress for the fear of not being enough.

Or, I could be brave and ride my mountain bike slowly down a green, even though I know my riding partner thinks I’m slow and scared.

Maybe I will give a speech to a room full of strangers, because my heart wants a microphone even though my conditioning tells me its safer to stay quiet.

Brave is the step I take- or don’t take- when following my heart.

Fear can be considered physical survival, but many psychotherapists now call that instinct.

What most of us think of as overcoming our fears is actually an ego-survival mechanism. If I do this, I am great. If I achieve this, I am successful. If I don’t do this, I am keeping my small-self identity in place.*

*This is very much a “know thyself” topic. Type A’s and Type C’s tend to be does and could find value in stillness. Type B’s can obviously find great value from going within, but may also need to take an actionable step.

Plus, as Dr. Ellen Langer writes in her book The Mindful Body we don’t often account for risk assessment when we label someone as brave. My bike riding friend, to me, appears to be fearless. And maybe he does care less about crashing then I do. But really, he’s a much more skilled rider, and what I often see as huge risk is a small obstacle to him.

As I’ve studied bravery over the past year, I think I’ve finally started to understand what it means to be safe, to be fearless. In a human body, there is always risk. Risk of being physically wounded, and the perhaps worse risk of being emotionally hurt. But it is the parts of ourselves that have learned to protect our human vulnerability that carries the fear.

We will all die.

But Love will always be there.

And if we can do, or not do, and know that we will and are still love, we will always find safety within the shelters of our mortality.

My confirmation name is “Joan”, after Joan of Arc. At 13, I picked this saint because I saw her as tough, and Sebastian (the Parton Saint of Sports), was either not allowed or I didn’t like the name enough (I don’t remember). But 20+ years later, I believe her. Joan wasn’t being tough when she stated “I am not afraid. I was born to do this.” She was being brave. She knew who she wasn’t and who she was. She was brave in the face of both physical and ego death.

Brave is the step you take when following your heart,
The only truly brave act is being completely oneself in a word of people who have forgotten who they truly are. 

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